


loss.txt

by nah_tho



Series: Dumb Interspecies Relations [7]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Cuddling, DON'T WORRY NOBODY DIES, Existential Horror, Fantasy Dick's Last Resort, Finally some Kravitz/Taako action, M/M, a lot of MOOD, beware of heavy mood, this is a weird installation of this series folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 16:27:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14622581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nah_tho/pseuds/nah_tho
Summary: There's something very wrong with Brad Bradson.





	loss.txt

**Author's Note:**

> guess who's back
> 
> back again

Without the distraction of having to learn a new partner and negotiate the uncharted territory between them, sex could be almost trancelike for Taako, sometimes.

Not like a meditation, or any dream state: there was just something about the way Kravitz knew to touch him that made him fade out of his eyes and ears and into the peripheries of his senses, into the buzzing nerves under his skin. 

He felt everything as Kravitz smoothed his cool hands up his back, pressing his fingertips into the muscles at the base of his neck, knowing it’d make him melt. He felt Kravitz’ chest under his hands, Kravitz’ waist between his thighs, Kravitz’ dick in his ass, Kravitz’ breath on his face.

“Taako,” Kravitz murmured, and the sound took longer to slip through his ears and into his head than it should have. “Kiss me.”

He did, leaning in and pressing close as he rode. His thighs ached. He felt it, but it mingled with the rest of the sensations he was feeling in a way that almost made it pleasurable, too.

Kravitz kissed the same way he did most things: carefully, and with more respect for the way most people thought things were supposed to be done than Taako usually agreed with. There was no recklessness to his touch, and never had been.

They’d had a tumultuous first few intimate encounters. If Kravitz had been in possession of less patience, the second might’ve led to a firefight. Taako had learned quickly and reluctantly that he didn’t respond well to the sort of goading he tended to default to when frustrated.

The thought flitted across his mind, as it sometimes did when he was feeling particularly amicable to letting Kravitz have his much slower and gentler way in the bedroom, and then vanished as Kravitz buried his fingers in his hair, tugging it obligingly.

He slid his own hands up Kravitz’ chest to loop them around the back of his neck, kissing him again as he rolled and dropped his hips more rapidly. Kravitz moaned into his mouth. He loosed a soft little hitching noise of his own as Kravitz tugged his hair again and another, louder one as he dropped a hand between his legs to stroke him.

He could feel everything as he came, and as Kravitz came, still kissing him.

A brief thought of that early period flitted through his mind again, but he wasn’t really thinking of anything as Kravitz rolled him onto his back and pulled out.

He was almost drifting into a light meditative state when Kravitz came back, wiping his stomach down with a damp cloth.

He cracked an eye open. Kravitz smiled and leaned into press another kiss against his lips. It was chaste and sweet. He closed his eyes again.

Kravitz chuckled. “Remind me to thank him sometime,” he joked, laying back down on the bed.

Taako grunted interrogatively, groping his way into having his cheek mashed against Kravitz’ chest and his leg thrown over his waist.

Kravitz stroked his hair. “Brad,” he commented. “It seems like he’s good for you.” He didn’t have to clarify: they both knew what that meant.

Taako had a considerably higher libido than Kravitz, and a much stronger proclivity towards wild, rough sex, which was something they’d stumbled around until they’d hit on both being comfortable with the idea of involving auxiliary partners in their relationship. It had turned out to be a boon: when Taako’s wilder appetites were sated, he was infinitely happier to come home to a gentle partner, and Kravitz was more comfortable initiating knowing Taako wasn’t going to start feeling restless and do something heinous.

So despite what he’d just said, they both knew what he’d meant was _‘it seems like he does a good job wearing you out’_.

Taako grunted in agreement, winding his arms around Kravitz’ waist affectionately and burying his face in his chest. Kravitz curled him close.

 He’d gotten used to Kravitz’ lack of a heartbeat a long time ago, and the low magical thrum he could hear inside his ribs instead was comfortingly familiar, but it really did serve as a strange contrast.

Curled up against Brad, his heartbeat sounded like a huge drum, and often too slow to seem normal, especially when he was asleep.

Getting used to that had been equally strange.

Kravitz roused him out of his idle thoughts with another question.

“How are things with the two of you?” he asked, threading his fingers through Taako’s hair.

Taako hummed. “Good. Well, as good as it can be,” he mumbled, “I think Lucretia thinks I’m going to kidnap him. She’s been running his green ass into the ground. Moon ground. Fuck it.” He stretched, groaning when his elbow popped. “We keep having to reschedule because every time she gets wise she asks him to help her with some ‘urgent task’ and the dude just does _not_ know how to say no to work, Krav,” he complained, ignoring the way Kravitz stifled a laugh at that.

“It seems like you have a type, babe,” Kravitz teased.

Taako cracked an eye open disdainfully, stuck out his tongue at him, and closed his eyes again.

They settled into a comfortable silence. Taako listened to the thrum in Kravitz’ chest and considered lazing away his afternoon.

Across the room, from the surface of the dresser, he heard the pop and static of a Stone receiving a message.

_‘-ko? Taako? I’m sorry if this is a bad time-”_

It wasn’t just the unexpected interruption that sent his eyes flying open and an ear swivelling towards the source.

Kravitz lifted the arm he’d settled around his waist obligingly. Taako scrambled to his feet, stumbling across the room.

_“Taako? Alright. I’ll call back-”_

He grabbed the Stone with an eagerness that he might’ve found embarrassing if he wasn’t still hazy from orgasm. He pretended not to hear Kravitz’ chuckle.

“Yeah, s’up?” he answered, trying to sound disinterested.

For a long moment, there was no response, and he almost decided he’d missed his window.

 _“Taako?”_ Brad asked, voice strange and small through the Stone.

“Naw, this is Jorge’s food delivery service, how may I help you, my guy?” he said flippantly, not even attempting to disguise his voice.

Brad sounded puzzled but amused. _“Um, alright. Well, nice to meet you, Jorge_ ,” he said pleasantly, _“is Taako there and can I speak to him?”_

“Yeah, sure, just a minute,” Taako said, and launched into such an elaborate farce of calling himself from across the room, complete with illusion magic voice-throwing, that by the end of it Kravitz was nearly in tears with the effort of not laughing. “Alright, it’s me, my dude, what can Taako do for you today? You got a complaint about my guy Jorge’s service?”

Brad now sounded absolutely bewildered. _“Uh,”_ he said, _“would you prefer it if I called back later?”_

Taako sighed. “Naw, hit me: what can cha boy do for you, Brad Bradson?”

 _“I was wondering if you were free tonight,”_ Brad asked, and already sounded like he was apologizing before he’d even started, _“I’m sorry, I know this is short notice-”_

“ _Naw_ , it’s good, I’m free,” he said, not even fighting the big grin that started to worm its way across his face. Kravitz ghosted a hand over his bare back as he passed, stepping out into the hall. “What did you have in mind?”

There was a pause. Taako wasn’t sure what to make of it.

 _“I have the night off,”_ Brad said, _“and I thought it might be nice to spend some time together, if you’re amenable.”_

“‘Amenable’? The fuck, my guy,” Taako parroted mockingly, but without heat. “If you’re asking if Taako’s down, then yeah, sure, he’ll see you on the moon. Midnight?”

He wasn’t sure if he imagined the strange hesitance in Brad’s voice.

_“Of course. Then I’ll see you at midnight, Taako.”_

***

To say that Brad was a peculiarly clever orc was not to say that orcs were, on average, unintelligent, but to comment on the way intelligence manifested in the overage orc.

Orcs had a predisposition towards cunning, which was a style of intelligence better suited to their culture: a cunning mind did not love to plan, but reacted quickly and ably to new experiences, was not set stumbling by sudden changes, and did not freeze in the face of the unexpected. It was a style of intelligence that made for intuitive and unpredictable fighters, and which worked well with the orcish attitude towards strong opponents- without it, the population of half-orcs in the world of Faerûn would have, in all likelihood, never have grown to a size of such notoriety.

Cleverness, by comparison, was an intelligence of patterns and calculations: whether it manifested as a talent for music or a mind for strategy, or even just a knack for riddles, it was a sort of mathematical intuitiveness well-suited to observation and prediction, and which predisposed to its holder to a penchant for contemplation that cunning simply did not.

Whether Brad was willing to admit it or not, it was this peculiar cleverness that fueled his father’s fixation on having him as his successor, and it was that contemplative nature which demanded he not overlook the reality that something was very wrong with him, and had been since the night before.

It was a restlessness he’d awoken with, had possibly even been awakened _by_ \- he’d stirred from his sleep very suddenly, hours before nightfall, with a strange and sourceless sense of having misplaced or forgotten something, and it had continued throughout the night, had flavoured his dreams in the day following with unease, and had stalked him out of them and into the evening.

He had lied, a little, when he’d called Taako.

It wasn’t that he ‘had the night off’.

His restlessness had been so pronounced and distracting the night before that the Director had taken notice and felt compelled to end his shift early, and when she had checked in with him early that evening, before she’d retired to her quarters, she had made the executive decision of informing him that he was _taking_ the night off.

He wasn’t sure what, exactly, it was that was wrong with him, only that something _was_ wrong. He just felt like he was searching for something he had lost, and couldn’t seem to keep still.

He’d called Taako on impulse, wanting company and craving the excitement Taako brought with him, and had almost decided against it when he’d realized it couldn’t be had immediately.

It was nonsensical to think that Taako could or would drop everything to see him, but he’d still had the thought, the bright flare of impatience, which was unlike him.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him, and he couldn’t seem to stop obsessing over it, picking through knots of thought in his head like he could get at the source if he only found the right thread to follow.

He was so preoccupied that he failed to realize he’d neglected to meet Taako at the hangar until he realized the person who’d fallen in step with his aimless pacing around the base was, in fact, Taako himself.

He looked very bemused.

“Hail and well-met, my dude,” Taako greeted when he looked over, “you, uh, change your mind or something? I thought maybe you got caught up in something, so I was waiting, but, uh…” He gestured vaguely to the part of the quad Brad had been pacing across. “Here you were?”

Brad ran a hand over his face, trying to focus himself. “I’m- I’m so sorry, Taako, I’m just-” A few things occurred to him, but the lie he settled on was, “overworked. I was thinking about work and I lost track of time.”

Taako’s eyes were narrowed, searching his face like he thought he saw something there he recognized, but he seemed to accept the excuse easily enough. “Yeah, okay, it’s no big,” he shrugged. “Shut that shit down, though, cha boy’s here. So what’re we doing? Because I didn’t really sign up for doing laps around the quad, my guy.”

Brad suddenly had a terrible suspicion. He’d made a mistake. Inviting Taako had been a mistake. He hadn’t thought it through, hadn’t had a plan. Taako would know something was wrong, and that he was, in a way, relying on him for comfort, and Brad would lose him to that skittishness he showed whenever things seemed too gentle, too domestic.

He was clever, not cunning, and he stumbled.

“Uh, a new restaurant opened in the old Fantasy Costco building,” he blurted out, unaccustomed to not having a plan, not having an answer.

That searching look returned to Taako’s eyes. “Yeah, okay,” he said again, after a moment, eyebrows slowly rising, “didn’t, uh, didn’t take you for a fan of that sort of thing, Bradson. Huh.”

Halfway through Taako’s sentence, he’d already realized his misstep. He’d never been inside, but he was familiar with the idea behind the establishment that had taken root there.

In a move none of them had expected or could explain, a substantial offer of funding for outreach had been made to the Bureau of Benevolence in exchange for acquisition of the vacant Fantasy Costco building.

As a result, it was not longer vacant, and now contained a franchised location of Fantasy Dick’s Last Resort, known for its obnoxious serving staff and incoherent décor.

It was, to the Director’s chagrin, a resounding success amongst the staff.

He decided to commit. “I’ve never been,” he said, sounding more reasonable than he felt, “and it can’t hurt to experience something new. We don’t have to if-”

Taako looked amused and bewildered. “Naw. Dunno why you need some frock-wearing asshole to talk shit to you when I’m right here, my man, but alright. Let’s do it. Why the fuck not, right?”

“Right,” Brad agreed. “Why not?”

***

Wrong.

Not only was the experience as uncomfortable as he’d expected, he was distinctive and well-known enough to draw curious stares from his coworkers- more stares even than Taako, who at least seemed to be the sort of person who might enjoy an environment where everyone was rude to each other.

“You’re sweating, my guy,” Taako commented, looking amused as their server ignored them entirely on his way to greet new patrons at the door.

“What?” Brad asked, “Oh. It must be lack of sleep. I’m sorry, Taako. I’m being a terrible date, aren’t I?” As soon as the words had left his mouth he wanted to snatch them back.

Taako, for his part, didn’t even seem to notice Brad’s slip-up. He was watching again, brow furrowed, eyes keen. “Are you sure you’re-”

The sound of their menus being thrown down onto their table was louder than he might’ve expected, and while it wasn’t that strange for sudden noises to startle him, he saw Taako notice how violently he jolted back in his chair.

“Drinksss?” their server, a bored-looking lizardfolk with a red throat frill, asked the air between them. His throat undulated with the hiss of it.

“Uh,” Brad said, and the server turned piercing yellow eyes on him.

“Drinksss?” he repeated, clicking the word through his pointed teeth. “Did you not come here to imbibe and consssume, green one?” His gaze swung across the table to Taako. “If you do not wish to do ssso, leave.”

Taako laughed, which surprised Brad almost as much as the menus being dropped had. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get your scales bent, Taako hears you,” he joked. Brad wasn’t sure if he imagined the slight hiss he’d affected. “And he’s after wine, if you got it. Bradson?”

While Taako’s attention had turned to him, their lizardfolk server’s had not. He was frowning at Taako. “I do not intend to ‘bend my ssscales’,” he said, and seemed like he might continue until Brad coughed politely to attract his attention.

“I’ll just-” he started, and then realized he didn’t know what they had available and that it didn’t seem like a drink menu was available. “Uh, a beer? Please.”

Those yellow eyes stayed on him, unblinking until milky second eyelids swept over them and back out of sight.

“Whatever’s good,” he asked weakly.

Their server’s throat expanded for a moment before he made a disgruntled hissing noise and left.

Brad watched his back uneasily for long enough to realize that it was longer than Taako ordinarily would’ve allowed him to be distracted.

When he turned his attention back across the table, Taako was watching him with narrow eyes and a smile that was entirely too professional to be genuine.

“Bradson,” he said, leaning back in his chair and being much too casual in general, “did you drag me up here to break things off with me, or are you acting squirrelly for some other-”

In that tender moment between comprehension and actual thought, Brad blurted out,

“ _What_? No,”

with enough volume and incredulity to startle Taako into accidentally kicking one of the support struts under the table. “No,” he repeated, more evenly, “no, Taako, it’s nothing like-”

“My _man_ , I don’t know if _you_ know what kind of show you’re putting on right now,” Taako told him, still wearing that artificial smile, “but cha boy’s seen that look on a few faces.”

Brad looked at him, tight-lipped and unsure, before speaking. “It’s nothing like that,” he said firmly. “I just- I’m just tired, Taako. I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t really wait for a response, though he knew he should have. He just followed the thrumming urge to remove himself from the situation, beelining for the washroom so he could lock himself in a stall and squat down on the seat.

“I’m making a mess of this,” he mumbled, eyes closed, and tried to will that sourceless sense of urgency within him to still.

It didn’t work. His guts only roiled in answer.

“What’s wrong with me, Cave Mother?” he whispered, barely noticing which language it was he was speaking until he tried to reach for her.

Like cobwebs, his restlessness and anxiety gave way, plunging him into a cold well of dread unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

He _knew_.

He knew what was wrong.

The moment he’d tried to reach for her, he’d realized it: he had already been reaching for her, had already been groping desperately in that dark earthen place every orc carried within them, and she _wasn’t there_.

He was so accustomed to the comforting weight of her divine presence that its absence had been unthinkable.

Now he had thought it and could do nothing but stare at the floor between his feet, neither thinking nor feeling, simply lost in the cavernous emptiness of where she should have been.

Brad had no idea how long he sat there, head in hands.

He heard the door open and close, heard toilets flush and the rush of water over other patrons’ hands, but didn’t register any of it until someone stood directly in front of his stall and said,

“Seriously, my guy, if you wanted to ditch me, they might’ve let you go through the kitchen.”

Brad stared past the bottom of the stall door at his restlessly tapping boot. Dimly, he recognized that he was trying to sound light-hearted, but couldn’t completely disguise some other, more complicated emotion that Brad wasn’t equipped to decipher at that exact moment.

“It’s nothing like that,” he repeated again, hearing the hollowness in his voice and not quite managing to care.

Taako’s feet stilled.

He felt the prickle of magic and realized, just soon enough, what Taako was trying to do. His palm hit the opening door to the stall with more force than he’d intended, slamming it closed. Taako’s boots disappeared from sight for a moment as he stumbled back.

“What the _fuck_ , Brad?”

He sounded angry, now. Brad closed his eyes and swallowed against nothingness. “Please, Taako,” he said quietly. “Don’t.”

It was quiet for a long time, long enough for a heavy pit started to form in his guts. He had known it would come, eventually. It was inevitable. He just hadn’t wanted it to happen yet.

“Are you… okay, my guy?” He hadn’t even finished processing the realization that Taako hadn’t left, let alone started considering a reply, before he spoke again. “I mean, obviously you’re _not_ , cha boy’s not the simple idiot wizard he lets on to be, but like… are you okay?”

There was a warmth in recognizing that, in this case, Taako’s rambling probably meant he was searching for the right thing to say, but it was too muted to hold on to.

“No,” he said honestly.

Taako was quiet for a moment. Brad heard him fidgeting.

“You wanna get out of here?”

He almost smiled, felt it start in the back of his mouth and die before it reached his lips. “Yes.”

“Okay,” Taako said, “yeah, okay. I’m gonna go levitate some gold and make lizardboy out there chase his pay, I’ll meet you outside.”

***

Later, he would struggle to recall anything about the time it took him to travel between the restaurant and his quarters. He’d have a vague sense of Taako intervening to make excuses on his behalf when he breezed by the odd concerned friend or acquaintance. These excuses seemed to most frequently feature a theme of him having particularly severe diarrhea.

Even the familiar dark of his quarters didn’t help much. Even as he sank down onto his couch, he still felt cold and vacant.

He stared blankly at Taako’s legs when he came to stand, once again, in front of him.

“So,” Taako started, “you wanna tell me what your problem is, Bradson?”

He sounded more concerned than annoyed. A part of Brad’s mind too in shock to be preoccupied wondered if he was trying to be angry, but didn’t dwell on it. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Taako’s hands spread out, palms up, in a gesture that was half-welcoming, half-mocking. “Try me.”

“I can’t feel her.” Before Taako could play the pronoun game, Brad raised his eyes to meet his gaze. “Luthic has abandoned me.”

Taako’s expression smoothed into something unreadable. “What?”

“Luthic has abandoned me,” he repeated. Each word felt like poison. His tongue was numb. “I can’t feel her presence.”

Something like conflict flickered over Taako’s face. “You don’t know- that doesn’t mean she’s abandoned you,” he said. He’d started fidgeting with his hair.

“You don’t understand,” Brad sighed, dropping his eyes to Taako’s knees again. A strange exhaustion weighed on him. He wanted to lie down and never wake up.

Taako bent down to look at him, paused, and then sunk into a cross-legged position on the floor and looked up at him.

“I’m just saying,” he insisted, “her not being around doesn’t mean she’s, like, up and ghosted you, my guy. Maybe she’s busy. Y’know, with orcish fuckgoddess biz?”

Brad tried to be patient. “Taako,” he said quietly, evenly, “I know you’re trying to help, and I appreciate, I really do- but you have no idea what I’m going through right now.”

Taako’s expression did something strange when he said that, underwent a flickering transmutation from shock to fury to something inscrutably glossy and sweet.

“Oh,” he said, in a light, breezy tone that might have made any Brad less mired in existential dread very nervous, “you think so, huh?”

“I do,” he said firmly, and Taako smiled at him.

“I guess you’re right,” he chirped, eyes half-closed like he was almost laughing. “Taako’s out of his depth on this one.”

Brad startled a little when Taako draped himself against his knee, still smiling. He was about to protest, but the words dried up on his tongue when he finally caught the flinty look in Taako’s eyes.

“Imagine,” Taako purred, leaning his cheek against Brad’s thigh, “the person most important to you in the world just… up and ghosts you.” He laughed merrily, like he’d told a great joke. “And imagine you don’t know what’s happened to her- not a fucking clue- for eleven years.”

Brad watched the façade of thoughtless ease crack and peel as cold fury crept into Taako’s voice.

“Now imagine you couldn’t even _remember her_ , Brad,” he said, still smiling, but like an animal baring its teeth. “Wouldn’t that be a trick, huh? Eleven years knowing _something_ was missing, but not what- not _who_ ,” he seethed.

“Taako-” Brad started.

“No,” Taako snapped, “I guess I _don’t_ have any idea what you’re going through, do I, Brad Bradson?”

He clicked Brad’s name off his teeth with what Brad was sure was supposed to be biting intensity, but the inflection was somehow so much closer to how his name was meant to be pronounced that it made him strangely homesick.

“I’m sorry, Taako,” he said softly, “I wasn’t thinking.”

He looked like he wanted to stay angry, but the heat of it faded into sullenness even as Taako complained.

“Yeah, I guess you fucking weren’t, _huh_?” he groused, pushing away from him to lean back on his hands. “Going on and on like you’re the first person in Faerûn to misplace his god- you think I should hit Merle up, see what he thinks of you? I think he’d have a few words for you, buckerino-”

Much to his own surprise, Brad realized he was smiling. Just a little, and for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, but he was smiling nonetheless.

“Thank you,” he said, not really knowing what else to say.

Taako stopped mid-sentence and just sort of looked at him. “You’re welcome, I guess?”

“You don’t have to hang around and humour me,” Brad told him, “I know I’m not great company right now.”

Taako shrugged. “Date’s a date, my guy. You promised me time and I intend to collect.” He rolled to his feet, patting at the fabric of his skirt like he expected to find dust there. “You hungry? We didn’t really get a chance to grab anything at Fantasy Dick’s. I can make us something.”

Brad honestly wasn’t sure what to make of any of that.

“Not really,” he admitted, rising from his spot on the couch as well, but with considerably less energy. “Honestly, I just want to lie down. But, um, help yourself to anything in my kitchen.”

Taako hesitated. “I’m actually good,” he said, sidling up beside him. “I’ll come with-”

“Taako, I-” Brad started, and then sighed. “I really can’t, not right now-”

Taako gave him a Look. “You can’t what? Lie down?”

“Taako-”

“Ugh. Look, _Brad_ ,” Taako said, elbowing him lightly in the side as he passed him on the way to the bedroom, “I fucking love sex. You know that. I know that. Everybody knows Taako’s game for whatever. But,” he said, sending that Look over his shoulder at Brad, “I’m not a fucking _animal_. You wanna just like… lie down and hate ourselves for a while? Sure. Taako can do that. Cha boy plays that game on _expert_.”

“I never thought-” _‘you were an animal,’_ he wanted to say, and it was true, but what was also true was this: he honestly hadn’t ever considered that Taako might be willing to tolerate the inconvenience of him not wanting to go along with his impulses, and he was suddenly acutely aware of just how cruel and dismissive that opinion had always been.

So instead, all he said was,

“Thank you, Taako.”

And all Taako said back was,

“You coming or what? You’re already late to the pity party, I’m starting without you-”

***

He was so small and cool in his arms, and he barely complained at all at being curled up against Brad’s chest like some comforting toy.

He wasn’t nearly as tired as Brad was, and his hands roamed, fingers exploring dips and crevices, but chastely, true to his word. Sleep wouldn’t seem to come, but it was alright: the light touch of Taako’s cool little hands on his skin was a welcome distraction, so he just lay with him against him, letting him entertain himself in what strange little ways he could.

He had no idea how long he lay like that, breathing deeply and waiting for sleep to take him, or even if he’d managed to fall asleep at all before he felt it.

It was momentary, only fleeting, but it was enough.

He felt her touch his emptiness, distracted and brief like an overworked mother’s hand through the hair of an attention-starved child, and it was enough to quiet the fear he’d been nursing for hours.

Something in his face must have changed, because Taako paused in his exploration of his jaw and ears. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Brad said, and finally slept.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sorry about the title
> 
> sorry about the moods and all the heavy feelings tho
> 
> but shit's getting going on whatever fucking plane the gods chill on. it's almost 2am and I'm tired. goodnight friends [pulls a brad]
> 
> Edit: oh first
> 
> lizardfolk are really literal and I love them
> 
> this story started off with full intention to become a fun double date romp with Carey and Killian. please don't ask me how this happened 
> 
> I'm writing these notes from bed. I must sleep now


End file.
